At this moment, I didn’t know how to react.
Before I could even move, the world before my eyes vanished—the small forest was gone.
I’d been kicked out of the game.
I never expected to log out like this. In that final split second, I inexplicably opened my pet’s stats panel.
I barely noticed anything else. Only the pale purple experience bar at the top caught my eye.
Exp 98/100
Instantly, everything clicked.
Truth was, before I woke up, she’d carried me alone on her back. She’d struggled through newbie quests, panting heavily while snatching monsters for me. That’s why my exp bar wasn’t empty gray.
This sandbox game had near-real physics, extreme freedom, and simulated real senses intensely.
You felt fatigue, hunger, pain. Pain levels could be adjusted, but not exhaustion.
I glanced at the small clock on my desk—a birthday gift from Yingning. It was shaped like the popular fox idol Iku, Yingning’s favorite. Iku clutched a cola cup displaying the time: 6:35 PM.
Six and a half hours had passed since I logged in. My out-of-nowhere owner had carried me for six hours straight.
For six hours, she’d carefully carried me through quests. She didn’t have to.
As a Guild Leader, she should’ve been leveling up and rallying her Guild. That’s what all leaders did at launch. Yingning taught me how crucial first-mover advantage was—especially in this groundbreaking game, Zhui Xun II…
Why choose to carry me, sacrificing her head start?
I suddenly remembered her flustered, guilty face when I woke after being electrocuted…
Could it be… just to say, “Sorry, I hit too hard. I never meant to hurt you”?
By the fox god, was there really such a silly, naive Yatou in this world?!
Risking everything, sweating buckets, just to apologize to lifeless data?!
I thought only Yingning could be that dumb!
I made coffee, skipped logging back in, and opened my laptop to investigate the game anomaly.
I’d promised to play with Yingning, but I’d become a stranger’s pet! No freedom. If I couldn’t meet her, she’d call me out for breaking my promise.
Just then, Yingning stepped out of her bedroom. She looked drained, eyes slightly red-rimmed.
Yingning was my only family. Seeing those red eyes, I felt a pang. “Got bullied again?”
Yingning widened her big, pretty eyes, as if hiding tears. “Impossible! I’ve got bodyguards everywhere. Who’d dare mess with me? I’m Guild Leader of a top one-millionth Guild worldwide!”
“I don’t know global Guild counts, but with 6 billion people… big Guilds have tens of thousands. Yours has dozens. Top one-millionth? You’re at the bottom, right?”
Her cover blown, Yingning snatched my warm coffee and gulped it down vengefully. “So annoying! I’ve still got dozens of guards! No need for your worry!”
The cup slammed onto the table. The little Yatou was in a foul mood.
I dropped the argument, turned to my screen, and accessed the game company’s internal server data.
I cared about one thing only.
Finally, I found the player name “Ningbeibei” in the database.
Ningbeibei
Deaths: 3
Level: 1
Exp: 0/200
I scrolled down and found what I wanted most.
Player Registration Info
Real Name: Su Yingning
*****************
I lay back in the Gaming Pod.
How arrogant… these young players… thinking anonymity lets them cause chaos?
I recalled the data I’d just pulled—not Yingning’s, but another’s—
Player Name: Yujianlin
Real Name: Liu Han
Address: Unit 2, 5th Floor, Building C, Tianyi Garden, Tianyi District, Shengtai City
Occupation: Freelancer
Routine: Wakes at 10 AM, grabs takeout at noon, stays in-game otherwise.
Lives alone: Yes
Good. We’ll settle this account by account. Dimension by dimension.
I logged in, draping my silky white hair over my shoulder.
Youngster, do you know you’re playing with fire?
